


Not So Fragile

by Bongo518



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, POV Catra (She-Ra), Pining, Pirate!Catra, Smut, admiral!adora, siren!mermista
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28637481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bongo518/pseuds/Bongo518
Summary: Captured by her former friend and longtime adversary the Legendary Pirate, Catra, must come to terms with her new situation. No longer in control, her fate lies in the hands of Adora, Vice-Admiral of the Queen's Navy.-------“Not anymore. I know you want to be alone. And I’m sorry for taking that from you, but I couldn’t sit on my ship anymore waiting for the news that you’d died in a blaze of glory and taken a hundred pirates with you.” Her eyebrows tilt. Angry. Hurt. Confused.And then I’m kissing her.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Catra & Mermista (She-Ra)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 141





	Not So Fragile

More than anything else, I smell seaweed. The salt is overpowering, sure, but the brine cuts underneath it, sneaking in the side of my nostrils. Clear skies provide endless visibility, ocean and sky colliding at the horizon but nearly indistinguishable. Not so far from land, gulls still circle, cawing and hoping for scraps. It’s about as idyllic a scene as they come.

I hate it.

I lean over the taffrail as far as I dare, the water crashing against the hull below. The ship is sturdier than what I’m used to, but I’ve caused and been the victim of shipwrecks before, and I’d rather not see another. Not that it’s within my power to stop one, but I keep an eye out anyway. The sea is rocky today, but not dangerous, yet still some part of me remains alert. I rarely relax these days, especially not on the open seas. The wind in my fur used to thrill me, driving me ever forward, but now a particularly large gust presses me back onto the cramped confines of the ship. As I step off the rail, I feel a hand between my shoulder blades, as solid and unmoving as the ship is unsteady. The fur on the back of my neck stands up, and I flinch as I spin around.

“Careful there.” Adora’s voice does not fit her stature; she sounds like a honeybee, all springtime and nectar. The hand that had a moment before touched my back looks like it could wrap all the way around my thigh, calluses and scars crisscrossing her palm and knuckles. Standing only a few feet from her, I have to crane my neck back to look her in the eyes. But I don’t want to look her in the eyes. I want to trace her neck up to her jaw with my little finger.

“I’m fine.” I bat her hand away.

She grins, amused and so very annoying. “Whatever you say,” she shrugs, turning her back to me. For a split second I want to say something, get her to face me again, but I let the moment pass. I lean against the rail and watch her walk to the bow to confer with our captain. Glimmer, the Governess’s daughter, overseeing the empty ocean like it’s a crowd of subjects. Couldn’t tell you port from starboard, but that’s where a rich family gets you. Royal Ambassador and Captain of the HMS Swift Wind. She’s out of her depth but surrounded by competence. This ship alone carries three of the highest ranking members of the Royal Navy, counting Bow, the Queen’s Engineer, ready to step in and gently nudge her in the right direction at a moment’s notice. They coddle her, and she doesn’t even see it. She thinks she’s doing something important, a diplomatic mission to formerly Horde-occupied territory, but at the moment she’s coasting off Adora’s talent. 

This ship is too valuable, something I’ve told Adora dozens of times. Any one of them would make a valuable hostage, but three? We’re practically begging to be attacked. The Horde might be splintered into a thousand pieces, but that means hundreds of former soldiers have turned to pirating, and any one of them would gladly risk their life to take ours.

“That’s why you’re here,” Adora always says, with that big dumb smile of hers. “You know how they think, so you can keep us safe.”

At least one person thinks so. Glimmer hasn’t so much as glanced at me in our week on the water, and the rest of the crew doesn’t think any better of me. Our navigator, Sea Hawk, and I have tangled more than once in the past. He a hired guide for merchant ships, and me often raiding said merchant ships. I never killed him, so I don’t know why he’s so salty. Bow gives me a wide berth, usually choosing to remain in his quarters when I’m on deck. His left leg still doesn’t move quite right after a…confrontation of ours a few years back. I didn’t find out until recently just how badly I’d injured him. Knicked the artery with my cutlass but was gone before the damage was apparent. That’s how I used to be, get in quick, cause chaos, and get out. But now I’m stuck on a too-small boat with the man I almost killed and the two women who found him bleeding out in the crow’s nest.

My stomach knots up, and I feel like I might vomit for just a second before I manage to tamp it back down. That’s been happening more often lately. And not just in rough seas. Sucking in a deep breath, I head below deck, passing a few crewmen whose names I haven’t bothered to learn. They all but cower as I pass, despite both of them having at least six inches on me. I grin and pop the claw on my index finger. Lick it. They flee. The simple fear in their eyes would have filled a younger me with glee, but now it barely provokes a response.

On the way to my quarters is the galley, and I glance inside as I pass. Men and women eat, drink, and play cards, laughing and talking. The sound is almost too much for my hypersensitive ears, but something stops me at the door. Alone in the corner, watching me, is the Siren Mermista. Few people intimidate me, but she’s one of them. Until coming aboard this ship I thought sirens a myth, a story told to scare children out of the ocean. Bloodthirsty and brutal, tales circle the world about men dragged beneath the depths and torn apart before they can even drown. This one doesn’t strike me as brutal, but I’ve met brutal people. Hell, I’ve been brutal people. Brutality doesn't scare me. It’s the indifference, the calculating way she appears to sum up your entire being in a few words without even noticing. It’s everything the stories say about me. But in her case it’s true. 

I don’t know why, maybe it’s the loneliness getting to me, but I enter the galley, maintaining eye contact with Mermista until I’m seated at her table. I hardly blink, refusing to break first. When I sit down, she stares at me. Then she very deliberately blinks.

“Are you mocking me?” I growl.

“Yes,” she replies, simply.

The matter of fact response throws me off. When’s the last time somebody talked to me like this? “Do you know who I am? Do you know what men say about me? The ships I’ve sunk. The towns I’ve raided.” I can feel my pupils contracting to slits, but I make no effort to calm down. It feels good, after so much time holding back, to get mad.

“Do you know what they say about me?” One corner of her mouth tilts up, the barest hint of a smile. I do, but I don’t give her the satisfaction. She may look human now, but I’ve seen her in the water.

“Why don’t you tell me?” I scrape a claw across the wooden table, trying to look casual.

Mermista chuckles, a single bark that riles me. The contempt conveyed in that one sound. “You’re not used to being around people, are you? Good people.”

“You’re not used to answering questions, are you?”

Mermista slides her drink over to me, then, a sudden movement that nearly makes me pop my claws. I hold back, glad not to give her a visual indication of how on edge she makes me. The liquid sloshes over the side as the mug comes to a stop. “Beer isn’t for me,” she leans in close and lowers her voice, “doesn’t taste enough like blood.” Her tongue flicks out as she speaks, and for the first time I notice its fork. For the first time, I notice a lot of things. How my pulse is racing, how the entire galley has stopped talking to watch this confrontation between a legendary pirate and a mythical creature, how tired I am of posturing. Constantly making sure everyone around knows who’s in charge. But I’m not in charge anymore. Not of my life, not of the ship, not even of this room. As fast as the anger rose, I can feel it fade, replaced by something hollow.

So I stand up and walk away. And for the briefest moment before I turn around, I see surprise on Mermista’s face. She’s heard of me, knows I never back down. Ever. But she doesn’t know how far I’ve fallen. Beholden to an aristocrat for saving me from the deadly power vacuum that followed the Horde’s disbanding and beholden to a naval officer for convincing her to do so. At least I can still surprise.

My quarters are sequestered away deep in the recesses of the ship, a gift I know Adora requested for me. This room is the only place I can find quiet, just the dull thud of water hitting the wood outside. It’s small, one of the smallest rooms I’ve ever called mine, but in this place that’s a comfort. From my bed I can reach all four walls if I stretch, and something about the stability, the lack of open air, grounds me. I can breathe in this room. I reach under the bed to check on my cutlass. She’s still there, sheathed. Glimmer demanded I surrender all arms before coming aboard, called me “a threat, no matter what she says,” but Adora convinced her to let me keep my girl, provided I didn’t wear it on deck. Not like the sword is what makes me a threat, but I didn’t have much choice in the matter. I keep no other possessions, my years of plunder confiscated by the Royal Navy when they captured my ship, the Fright Zone. All pirates face consequence eventually—an old pirate is either dead or scared so bad they leave the sea for good—and mine came in the form of a trap. A small fishing village made to look helpless but filled with royal soldiers commanded by who else but Adora. My crew captured, I could either surrender or die. Trust me, I considered it.

Give the princess one thing. Her ship’s cushy. I haven’t slept on a bed this fine since my Academy days, and my bed might as well be debris compared to the other officers’. I couldn’t sleep the first few days, so used to piles of hay on timbers and, though briefly, the cold stone of a cell. But I’ve since settled into the body-conforming mattress.

I don’t realize I’ve fallen asleep until there’s a knock at my door. I’m awake instantly, cutlass in my hand within seconds. But then I realize where I am, and I return her to her bed. Groggy, I crack the door open to find a tree of a woman, hair the color of autumn leaves.

“Hey, Adora,” I yawn.

“Are you sleeping?

“Cat nap.”

“Well, we’re having some fun up there. Keeping the mood, light, you know? There’s drinking and dancing. Gotta keep spirits up at night. I didn’t see you up there.” She lightly pushes the door all the way open, and I step back to let her. Now that she mentions it, I hear the faint, rhythmic thump of feet a few decks up.

“It’s night time?” I usually don’t let myself sleep that long, even at night. I don’t remember the last time I’ve slept through the night. The circumstances must be weighing on me more heavily than I thought.

Adora tilts her head in concern. Unable to keep emotion off her face, Adora’s always been easy to read. At the Royal Naval Academy we used to play a game to see who could guess the other’s emotions at any given time. Loser snuck out to buy the winner a drink. Adora got caught at the pub so many times she was nearly kicked out, but even then she was so clearly a military genius that she was given a pass. I only had to sneak out once, when Adora and Lonnie were chosen to lead our team in a mock-naval battle. When Lonnie’s name was called, Adora took one look at my face and whispered “jealous.” Her lips’ proximity to my ear prompted a shiver so hard I had to steady myself. I gave her the win, even if it was for the wrong reason.

Now those same lips are pursed with worry. “Yeah. It’s night time. Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I wave her off. “Thanks for thinking of me, but I’m gonna stay down here.”

“Catra,” she starts.

“They don’t want me up there.”

“I do,” she says quickly, so earnest. She’s like a child. Granted, a child who I once saw punch through a wooden shield, but a child nonetheless.

“You’re not the only one on this ship,” I snap, frustrated and tired and I don’t know what else. “And I don’t know if you remember, but I’m an enemy.” I swing the door shut. But her foot is in the way. I want to slam it again, hurt her, but I know I won’t be able to. She waits a moment, then gently opens the door.

“Not anymore. I know you want to be alone. And I’m sorry for taking that from you, but I couldn’t sit on my ship anymore waiting for the news that you’d died in a blaze of glory and taken a hundred pirates with you.” Her eyebrows tilt. Angry. Hurt. Confused.

And then I’m kissing her.

She’s takes a long moment to react, too stunned to do much other than lay her hands on my back. But soon I feel her fingers in my fur, clenching and unclenching, rubbing individual strands between her thumb and forefinger. I start to lean back, pulling her into the room.

“Catra,” the word escapes in an exhale, and I shush her by pulling her back to my mouth. I step back, and to my relief she follows, closing the door behind her. There’s barely enough room for the two of us in here, and Adora has to bend her neck to fit under the low ceiling. I sit on the bed, unfortunately forced to extricate myself from her to achieve the movement.

“Catra,” she says again, somewhere between standing and sitting.

“Please.” She doesn’t have to say it out loud for me to know that she understands the emotion behind my word. I grab her hand, dwarfing mine, and pull her in. I lie back on the bed, and she holds herself above me with her arms. I feel the heat of her breath on my nose, but I don’t dare crinkle it for fear that she’d become self-conscious. On its own my body tilts upward, the small of my back coming off the mattress until the hems of our breeches touch. Hesitantly, she lowers herself.

“You won’t crush me,” my voice is less than a whisper, “I’m not so fragile.”

Her body envelops mine the more she lets me bear her weight. I hook my fingers into her pockets and pull her the rest of the way down, shuddering at the gravity of the descent. I lean forward and kiss up her neck to her jaw, and the slightest yelp tells me to keep going. So I do, brushing my lips across her cheekbone, nibbling on her ear.

She fumbles with the buttons of my shirt, but I don’t help her. The awkwardness of it all feels necessary for both of us. What is necessary for me, specifically, is when she finally gets it off and takes my nipple in her mouth, tongue swirling. My sharp intake of breath surprises even me, as does my sudden buck underneath her. At the reaction, she tilts her head to look into my eyes, and evidently she likes what she sees because there’s a hint of mischief to her gaze. Only an instant ago I controlled the moment, but now I’m so utterly at her mercy I would be afraid if I could think that critically. Her hand slips under my pants and settles on my thigh. I wish I could say otherwise, but I squeak.

Adora lifts her head long enough to giggle, “you’re cute, you know that?”

“Shut u—ah!” Her fingers enter me just as I’m getting indignant, and I lose any sense of personality. Catra the Legendary Pirate retreats, as do the stories she has to live up to. In her stead lies a blank piece of paper, ready to tell any story Adora wishes to write. Our bodies and the waves rock in a simultaneous cadence. My head lolls back, and I alternate seeing the ceiling and the inside of my eyelids, unable to withstand the sensation of either for very long. Blood pumps in my ears, and the smell of sex permeates the crowded chamber. I don’t know how long it takes until I feel the release, but it is both hours and seconds. My legs clench around her hand, and I am unable to unclench them for a few seconds. When they relax, I can’t stop shivering.

Adora takes her hand back and sits up. “You okay?” She asks.

I can’t say anything, so I just hold out my arms, eyes pleading until she understands. She leans closer to me, and I wrap my arms around her shoulders, pulling her all the way down. I cling to her, and she lets most of her weight sink back into me.

We stay like that for a long time. I think I fall asleep. She stays perfectly still but for a thumb that traces one tiny circle on my hip bone. “Let’s go upstairs,” she says, eventually, quiet enough that she might think I’m still asleep. I don’t answer. I pretend to be asleep. I pretend I didn’t hear her. I pretend I wouldn’t do anything she asked of me in that moment. “Catra,” she insists.

With a huff, I push her off me. “You’re no fun,” I pout.

Adora, for her part, actually seems annoyed. The first rise out of her I’ve gotten since she arrested me. She sputters, looking for words. “No…no fun? That wasn’t…Are you kidding?” She stands up quickly and bumps her head on the ceiling. “Ah. Catra, are you kidding me?”

My teeth are showing with how hard I’m smiling. But I can’t keep her in suspense forever, so I slide onto the floor on my knees and swiftly drop her pants to the floor. Before she can say anything my tongue flicks her clit and my fingers wrap around her ass. There’s no gasp from her like there was from me. Instead, after a minute she snakes a hand through my hair and grabs on. The slight pain of follicles stretching encourages me to redouble my efforts, and soon she’s guiding my head with her hand, pulling me closer and deeper. Her breathing speeds up until it comes in short pants, and my head sways with her body. Despite what I had intended, once again I don’t take the lead here. She reaches down to grab my jaw and pull my head up to face her. I take deep breaths, having held mine for the last minute or so.

“Catra,” is all she says. Maybe all she knows how to say right now. Coming from her the word holds meaning. I’ve heard it said in fear and admiration. I’ve heard it said from men begging for their lives and crewmates cheering for their reward. I’ve even heard it from other lovers, men and women I’ve shared a night with on the sea or in the port. But it has never held meaning.

This time, she kisses me, pulling me halfway up to meet her. The kiss doesn’t last as long as I want because now Adora has a goal. And nobody has ever stood between Adora and a goal, especially not me. She gently but firmly pushes me back down and pulls me back in, and there I stay for the next few minutes until she sinks to her knees and into my arms, two bodies indistinguishable on the floor.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I say directly into her ear, smiling.

“Just…give me a second.”

I laugh then, my first real laugh in months. She joins, though hers are more breathy and labored. Once it dies down Adora wriggles on the floor. “What are you doing?” I ask.

“Getting closer.”

“Adora, you’re fully on top of me.”

“Not close enough.”

“Content,” I observe. Adora looks at me quizzically. “That’s what you’re feeling.”

She closes her eyes and smiles. “Once this mission is over, you should stay. Be a part of the crew.”

My stomach knots again. In a panic, I flail to try to get out from under her, but there isn’t enough space in the room. I hit my head on the bed frame and scrape my hand on the wood in my scrabbling to stand. Adora is on her feet in an instant, so fast I don’t know when she stood up.

“Catra! Catra, what’s wrong?” She grabs my shoulder to steady me, but I shove her arm away more forcefully than I mean to. The hurt returns to her eyes.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just need…I’m sorry. I’ll meet you upstairs.” I try to keep the dread from my voice, but enough of it slips out that Adora comes closer. “No! Please. I’m sorry. Just give me a few minutes alone. Please.”

Adora stares, open-mouthed, but soon she sets her jaw. I can tell she’s grinding her teeth. She leaves the room without a second glance. This time, the door does not close gently. I hold it in until I think she’s out of earshot, then I let out a sob. Then another. Nausea builds in my throat, but I swallow until it subsides. Tears and snot intermingle and fall to the floor. I shouldn’t be crying. Why am I crying? What Adora offers are objective positives, dreams for some people. A life in comfort, financial and physical security, her. So why am I so terrified? I’ve stared death in the face dozens of times, laughed off wounds that have slain men twice my size. I killed Captain Silvercrown and stole his silver crown, then threw it into the sea when I got bored. When did I get so soft?

Once I’ve collected myself, I wipe my face on the blanket and put my shirt back on. I am a pirate, and I won’t let a little drinking and dancing scare me. Out the door and down the hall before I have a chance to second guess. I beeline for the ladder leading to the open air, the sounds of revelry crescendoing with every step. But something stops me. A feeling. I backtrack to the galley, where I find Mermista nursing a drink alone. Against my better judgement, I sit at her table.

She glances at me for a moment, but returns her gaze to the inside of her mug.

“Are you drunk?” I finally ask after giving her a minute to say something.

“It takes a lot to get a siren drunk,” her words lack their earlier bite.

Making a decision, I walk to the casks in the corner of the room, swiping a mug on the way. I hoist the lid off the barrel and let it drop to the floor with a thump. I dunk the mug all the way under the liquid and down it in one go once it comes back up. Then I do it again. When I look back at Mermista, I find her watching me.

“Don’t tell anyone, but it doesn’t take much to get me drunk,” I warn, returning to her side with another full mug.

She continues to look at me for a long time. Long enough that I begin to shift my weight under her stare. “You surprise me, pirate.” Finally the admission is aired.

“I surprise myself.”

“I’ve met a number of pirates. You are not a very complicated bunch. Self-serving pleasure-seekers for the most part. And yes, many are afraid, even of themselves. Like you are.”

I don’t bother fighting her. It’s just us here.

“You fit this mold. And yet, you surprise me. Sea Hawk has told me about you. Your ship was agile and swift. Yourself even more so. I don’t believe that you could be caught unawares like you were.”

I don’t bother fighting her. This time because I’ve spent so long refusing to tell myself what she’s saying now. I change the subject. “Glimmer won’t accept me. Bow won’t accept me.” I take a swig.

She does as well. “Because you’ve hurt people. Because you’ve killed people. Because you’re a monster.”

Unbidden, another tear wells up. “Yes.”

Suddenly, a scaled hand grabs my face and turns my head. Not gentle or firm like Adora but with a force unlike any I’ve ever known. To fight Mermista would be to fight the ocean. I know instantly that she could snap my neck as easily as snapping a twig. And I feel fear. Different than before. Visceral, primal fear. She turns me to face her, and I see her as she is. Scales have sprouted over her entire body, azure and green and incandescent. Her pupils have disappeared, replaced by two orbs containing every color I know and more I don’t. Her mouth opens, and the forked tongue slithers across the table to stroke my cheek. My body shakes, but I can’t close my eyes no matter how hard I try. I am transfixed by her.

“You’re not the only monster,” she says, her voice metallic.

Then the spell is broken, and I fall to the floor, coughing and retching. Human again, Mermista walks to my side and crouches, offering me my mug. I take a sip and spit it onto the floor to clear my mouth, still shaking.

“What you saw just now is what the stories say about me, pirate. That is what I am. But it is not who I am.” She places the mug on the floor and leaves.

I take a drink.  



End file.
